


ask me, i won't say no / how could i?

by vermontghost



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: M/M, RP, proposal fic, tardis lounge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25080094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vermontghost/pseuds/vermontghost
Summary: Proposal.
Relationships: Baker Smith/Tremas Masters, Fourth Doctor/The Master (Ainley)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5
Collections: Human Classic Characters





	ask me, i won't say no / how could i?

The porch isn’t cold, but still I shiver.

_ “You sure you want that shirt? looks like you’re a pirate,”  _ the woman at the thrift store had muttered.

_ “Yeah, here’s the money.” _

_ “Good luck with your piracy.” _

I think about the absurdity of the situation — I sit here, in the middle of nowhere, wearing a captain hook shirt, fiddling with a small blue box (In my pocket, of course, what a fool I would be if I carried it out in the open) and next to my partner who I can’t bring myself to propose to. I sit here, in the middle of nowhere, except it isn’t in the middle of nowhere, because I’ve lived here all my life. I sit here, in the middle of nowhere, but the box isn’t empty, it has a ring in it, a beautiful one. 

Sometimes I think my life is a television show, moments suspended, actions in slow motion, overdramatic music ringing in my ears. Other times I think a television show couldn’t possibly be this messy, this unscripted.

_ Tell him. Tell him you want to slip a ring on his finger. Tell him you want to kiss him at an altar, tell him you want to wrap your hands around his and whisper “i do,” tell him you want to be his husband. Go on, tell- _

“The stars are beautiful tonight,” I remark. 

“They are.”

“Do you ever look up and imagine-”  _ Calling me your husband? Walking down the aisle?  _ “The worlds up there?”

He brushes his hand against mine, and I take it. 

“Not really.”

“Just think - think of the potential for alien life. So many people think that we’re the only ones out there, but that makes no sense. we never really know how life got started, but we know how it evolves and is sustained! and think - think of all the stars you see up there. Every single one is a burning sun complete with its own planet systems, and those planets have potentially habitable ones, and there are millions - if not billions - if not an infinite amount of planets with a climate capable of sustaining and housing life, even creating it -”

“Baker.”

“--And look, look up there, what are the chances that there aren’t words that developed the same way as earth? the exact same way--”

He kisses me and I shut up, kissing back, fluttering my hands across his hair, and I forget I need to breathe air.

“Dance with me,” I murmur.

“Baker, there isn’t any music.”

“Dance with me.”

I pull him up, and he smiles. 

I wrap my arm around his waist, and my hand around his hand, and lean in against his neck.

He hums something I can't recognize, and I listen closely. He smells like vanilla, the soft, sweet, vanilla of his perfume, or was it cologne? 

“Love you,” he whispers against my shoulder, and I listen to his heartbeat. 

And i think: if i’m ever going to live the way i’d like to live, i can’t stand here procrastinating, as sweet and tender the procrastination is.

I break away, and there’s another song in my ears - the pounding of my own, anxiety-ridden heart.

I reach for the box, and inevitably I crouch down on one knee, flipping the box open.

_ (“You sure you want this ring? we have plenty of others.” _

_ “No, I'd like the one with the black velvet lining and the three small diamonds.” _

_ “Well, the woman you’re-” _

_ “Woman?” _

_ “Man?” _

_ “Yep.” _

_ “-will be very lucky to have this ring. thanks for shopping at kay jewelers.”) _

“I’ve loved you since I was small, since I was an idiot. Well, I’m still an idiot. But if- if you’d like - i’d like to be your idiot. Tremas Masters, will you marry me?”

For a moment, he seems shocked. for a moment, I wonder if this was a mistake, if he didn’t really-”

He grabs me by the pirate-shirt collar, and kisses me with as much restraint as he can manage.

“Yes.”

In that moment - warmth spreads through me, the deep, full warmth i’ve been used to, the heavy warmth that curls through your bones and you know, in this moment, that you are happy, that you are full, that you are love, that you are loved -- 

_ (“Who could love me, I am out of my mind, throwing a line out to sea, to see if i can catch a dream...” 17-year old me sang that at the top of my lungs, nodding along to the record with my head in my hands.) _

I am out of my mind, but he loves me.

I am out of my mind but he - my fiance, is that what it’s called - loves me.

I slip the ring on his finger, and it fits - of course it fits, I took the ring measurements in his sleep. He could sleep through the end of the world, and if no one woke him up it’s possible that he’d sleep for a week.

I kiss him breathless and trip over a pile of leaves, landing on the grass-green ground (i’ll need to take another shower) but he doesn’t get back up. He falls with me, and laughs softly. 

“I was wondering when that might happen,” he smiles.

“Were you?”

“I would have, but I couldn’t find a ring.”

I smile. “Look at yours.”

He notices the lining, and his eyes go wide.

“holy.... black velvet? You know me too well.”

I kiss him again. I think: why did i stop kissing him?

I think: him. my fiance. my soon-to-be husband.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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